


My Name is Dean

by Piper_Halliwell1979



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:09:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6387130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piper_Halliwell1979/pseuds/Piper_Halliwell1979
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean leads an AA meeting</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Name is Dean

My name is Dean and I'm an alcoholic," he started the meeting. "Hi, Dean," they chorused back from the folding chairs in the church basement. After the last meeting his sponsor had encouraged him to take the lead. Dean had been sober for one year, eleven months, and sixteen days.   
In two weeks he would be presented with his two year anniversary chip. He'd probably go to at least a meeting per day to make sure he hit that goal. There was more than his sobriety on the line.

"I started sneaking my old man's beer when I was a kid. Part of me wanted to be a badass. Part of me wanted to see if alcohol would help me sleep at night. I kept having night terrors about when my mom died. I figured that's why my dad was always drinking before bed. Then when he was having beer with eggs in the morning and whiskey with dinner I realized he had found more reasons to drink. By then I had too.

When I turned sixteen my dad gave me a fake ID that said I was twenty one. He was gone a lot on the road, said it would look like I was old enough to be raising my younger brother, who I was, if social services came sniffing around. Then we split a six pack. He left and I could could now buy booze any time I wanted to get numb. Even got a job as a barback at a roadhouse. 

My old man turned into a pretty mean drunk. I was a funny drunk. At least I thought I was. At twenty three I was just like my dad. I was going out on business with him, staying till last call, waking up in strange hotel rooms with my latest mistakes. Just like my dad. 

About that time my little brother had grown up and gotten himself into college. He was not joining the family business and was moving across the country to get the hell away from us. Now I can look back and say that was the best decision he ever made. At the time I wanted to punch his face in. I love that son of a bitch, though.  
A few years down the road I discovered benders, binge drinking. Every time I lost someone I loved I blamed myself. I hated myself. So I would drink myself into blackouts. I picked fights, slept with more strangers, drive cars too goddamn fast...and didn't care because I was a miserable bastard who wasn't worth saving.

Then I met someone who spent years trying to convince me I was worth saving. He tried everything he could think of, impossible things, to show me I was not the biggest fuck up on the planet. I was a good man, doing good things, and bad shit happens. It happens. 

Then something changed. He started feeling like he was useless. Like him not convincing me to change was his fuck up. And it was my turn to save him. The cycle continues, you know? I was worthless again. I binged again. Until my brother made me realize something that would take that cycle and chuck it out the damn window.  
I was in love with this guy. He was in love with me. I could do something my dad never did when he was alive. I could be happy. I was not alone. But I still hated myself.

So I walked into one of these meetings. I stayed, listened, drank the shitty coffee. I came back the next night. Some guy handed me a chip for being one day sober. He hugged me and said he was proud of me. And it was that one gesture that made it snap in my head. This is something I could do to make myself proud. I could make my brother proud, my best friend proud. I could learn to like Dean. I could be the man who was capable of being loved, and loving somebody else. 

I finally told Cas, his name is Cas, by the way, that I was in love with him after I got my six month chip. He told me he loved me too, but my recovery was more important so he insisted we put the relationship thing on hold till I got that one year chip. That first year is what makes or breaks you. My sponsor could tell you I was blowing up his phone at all hours that first year. 

So I made it. Cas was there when I got my chip. He's been to enough meetings that he probably could tell my story better than me. 

Six months ago I proposed to him using my one day chip. In fourteen days I get my two year chip. The day after that I'm getting married. The day after that I start referring to him as my husband at meetings. It's hard work staying in recovery. Just because I'm happy doesn't mean I stopped being an alcoholic. It just means I know what I have to lose if I stop putting in the work. 

I hope my story helps even one of you on your path. I hope you all feel comfortable enough to share your stories." Dean sat back down.

"Thank you, brother," Benny, his sponsor, clamped a hand on his shoulder. "I'm just as proud of you today as I was that first day. Who wants to share next?"

A young woman stood and introduced herself. Dean welcomed her along with the others but his mind drifted from listening to her story. His eyes were locked on his angel leaning against the wall in the back, sipping coffee. He could do this. He wasn't alone.


End file.
